The Lettered: One Letter at a Time
by Krypticonalite
Summary: I was pretty much in love with you from the moment I set my eyes on you. Cliché, I know, but true. I loved your reaction to my little pieces of anonymous blue letters. But deep inside, I knew, however arrogant that sounded, that you were slowly but surely falling for the person behind the letters, who wasn't the girl you thought it was. It was me. Amuto.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Shugo Chara or any of its characters. **

**Please enjoy.**_  
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_Someone once told me a picture is worth a thousand words; I then wondered if my thousand words could paint a picture of you and me._

___Who'll be my Montague now, to this broken Capulet?_

_Inspired by __Good Charlotte's _Harlow's Song (Can't Dream Without You) and The Script's Six Degrees of Separation

One Letter at a Time

I was pretty much in love with you from the moment I set my eyes on you. Cliché, I know, but true. You were kind in your own small way, except you never really showed it openly; I just picked up on your little habits and hobbies. You were chivalrous, altruistic, although you tried to pretend otherwise. You were really passionate about your violin, you were always carrying it around with you, although you didn't let anybody hear you play it.

You were popular, definitely, with your god-given good looks and Federal blue orbs with iris specks. Then again, I might just be flat out biased. But, unlike the others who liked to flaunt what they had, you preferred to be alone, never really leading anyone on. I myself was nothing short of popular as well, with the nickname Cool N' Spicy. Both you and I had the same french class and although I sat right behind you, you probably never knew I was there. You were always staring out the window, but you passed the classes with ease I envied from sneaking peeks at you.

Soon, it became obvious that something was bothering you. There was a permanent crease between your thin eyebrows that was never there in the first place. In french class, I couldn't stand seeing you so distraught, your shoulders hunched together as you stared at your desk. If everyone had observed you like I did, they would know that it was a big deal. It was practically your daily routine.

That was when I got the idea to write a little note to you. Even if you didn't see it or didn't like it, either way, you would know that someone cared for you. Shouldn't that make anybody at least a little happy?

_Ikuto, you are not alone. _

There, that was it. My oh so genius idea. I frowned at the thought of giving such a crummy letter - actually, it shouldn't even be considered as one - to you, and crumpled it into a careless ball, sighing. I waited until the end of class till I threw it into the nearby bin offhandedly. My aim had always been rubbish, and it was just my luck, it hit the french teacher on the back of her head.

You stifled a smirk behind the back of your hand, but my heart was pounding frantically. Oh no. Did she know that it was me? What if she opened it? What if she _read_ it out loud? Oh god. My mind, as you could probably tell, was full of negativity at the moment.

"Tsukiyomi-san," She called out snidely, frowning. "I believe this belongs to you."

Of course, it was from our side of the classroom. I heaved a sigh of relief. She would never think it was mine; Cool N' Spicy Hinamori writing a note? Impossible.

But my heart thudded uncontrollably against my rib cage as you frowned and took the blame for it anyway, carefully opening it up. My breathing hitched as your eyes skimmed over the letter and widened.

Hastily, I grabbed my satchel and walked as fast I as could out of class, keeping a blank look on my face. Fortunately, there were still many others in the class; I hoped that you would think that the note was from one of them.

That night, I tossed and turned in bed, unable to fall asleep. You were always extremely sharp, picking up on minute details and figuring people out. I could only hope that you wouldn't realize it was me, or worse, think that I was one of your many crazy fan girls.

The next day, in french class, I was bewildered because there were no rumors circulating either you or the note. The crease on your forehead was also gone; I had guessed that you had a good day, despite what had happened. I peeked around your broad shoulders to perhaps try to figure out why, when I saw you smoothing out the small scrap of paper you had picked up yesterday. You slotted it in a clear folder neatly, as a small smile adorned the edges of your slightly chapped lips, and you mouthed my written words to yourself. That was when I decided it was completely and utterly worth it after all.

You tried to keep it a secret from your friends, but to no avail, as my handwriting was displayed so boldly in your hands. I never really intended to write you more letters, but I overheard you talking in the corridor, hoping desperately to find the girl who had sent you the note. "I can't stop thinking about her. I hope she sends me another one," were your exact words. I hurried past you quickly, burning your words to memory. You - Tsukiyomi Ikuto - had wanted to receive another letter, from _me_!

I made it my routine to slip you a little letter at least twice a week; in your locker, on your desk, or once, even your gym bag when I accidentally came across it. I loved your reaction to my little pieces of blue notebook paper; I made excuses to try to be near you when you unfolded them, an eager smile lighting up your entire face, making one overlook the usual dullness in your eyes. It almost made you seem like a different person. A smile on my face usually followed yours. When you didn't receive my letter on a weekly basis like you had anticipated, you would frown, and mutter quietly to your friends, "I wonder if she forgot about me."

But how could I? You were my _world_.

There were times where I was tempted to come out straight to you and tell you I was the mystery girl; but who was I? No one would believe me. But that wasn't the point. I was afraid, that when you actually _saw _me, you would be disappointed. I wasn't perfect looking, I had a cold persona. I was afraid you didn't want to know me. So I hid behind my letters, outwardly always shrinking out of your way.

There was hardly a student in school who didn't know about our little exchange; it slowly became the talk of the school. People were playing guessing games, even the principal gave a speech about giving happiness to others without asking for any return, my letters to you being an example. Many girls tried to draw your affections away from mine by giving you letters of their own, but none of them knew the letters' content nor that it was anonymous. They got caught out easily by you. I liked to think that these were our little secret. But of course, then again, I was just delusional. You kept the letters simply for entertainment purposes or politeness, right?

But deep inside, I knew, however arrogant that sounded, that you were slowly and surely falling for the person behind the letters. You tried desperately to catch the mystery girl, but I had years of practice keeping up my icy facade and slowly turned your suspicions away from me, not that you had much in the first place.

Soon, rumors had it that the letter sender was one of your best friends. She eagerly welcomed them; after all, you were the epitome of gorgeousness in our school, one of the only decent ones. She was blonde, tall, and had a model's figure; she was perfect. No one could blame you as you slowly started to fall for her, wrongly assuming that she was your mystery girl. She easily kept up with the unacknowledged mystery. I knew it was wrong when I didn't try to convince you otherwise; I just went along with it. I couldn't spoil your chance of happiness, after all, even though it was ruining mine.

You deserved to be happy.

You came to my graduation ceremony two years later - I wished I could have said that, but no. You came to _her _graduation ceremony to congratulate the girl you thought you loved. I could see that cherished sparkle in your eyes, I couldn't bring myself to rip that away from you, the both of you. It was cruel, no, _inhuman, _to extinguish the light from your faces.

It was only five years later; that brings us to now, when I received an invitation to your wedding. Everyone in high school was invited, it seemed. My already severely damaged heart cracked just a little more and the tears threatened to spill as I read your card.

_Hoshina Utau _

_and_

_Tsukiyomi Ikuto_

_request the honor of your presence _

_to share in the celebration_

_of their joyous marriage_

I could already imagine the carefree smile carved onto your delicate features. I couldn't ruin all that. But you didn't deserve to be deceived either. I had decided; this would be my last letter to you. I had labored over it, spent countless hours erasing and rewriting over again until almost every single one of my notebook pages were torn into shreds. I had blotted out the last sentence with a stray tear, but it couldn't be helped. I had no paper left. I stared at my shaky handwriting. This was going to have to do.

_Ikuto, _

_I lied. I'm sorry. The girl you're about to marry, well, she's not the one who'd been writing these letters to you all these years. I know you were, and are happy, and I'm not sure if you would have been even half as happy with me. I offer my sincere congratulations on your marriage. _

_Don't let go of Utau; she's a wonderful person. _

_Take care. _

I smiled gently as the blonde woman drifted down the aisle, almost like an angel. I had slipped into your changing room earlier, and had settled the final letter onto a tabletop. I was at the wedding to make certain of this beautiful couple's bright future, before I caught my flight to the US to get a medical degree. I was working as a part-time mail clerk in Japan - oh, the irony - but I wanted to help people. I would make a path for myself and forget all about you. That would be best for the both of us.

I was genuinely happy for you; when your loved one was happy, no matter who made him or why he was happy, you would be too, wouldn't you?

Maybe not.

The look of your face in front of the altar was indescribable. I tried to figure out your feelings to the letter; I knew you had read it already, but your poker face could rival mine. I could only hope you didn't already abhor me.

I tuned out to everything else, including most of the wedding vows, as I concentrated on my breathing. _Inhale, exhale..._

"Do you, Hoshina Utau, take this man as your husband?"

"I do," Utau's smile could light up the whole of Vegas.

"And do you, Tsukiyomi Ikuto, take this woman as your lawfully wedded wife?"

Nothing.

Utau nudged you, attempting to break you out of whatever trance you were in. I bit my lip. _I do,_ I pleaded silently, hoping that my telepathic message would somehow get through to you and you would utter those words. It was the only way I knew you were going to be okay.

You jerked. "I-" You swallowed, an audible gulp coming from your throat. "Um, I..."

Utau turned to stare at you pointedly, incredulous. "Ikuto!" She hissed.

You stared back at her with equal intensity. "I'm sorry." Your eyes then met mine.

The crowd was stunned into deafening silence. My heart was breaking. I wanted to walk right out of this chapel and start my new life, without you affecting me so badly. Your stare bored straight into me and I couldn't stand the guilt. I turned. I ran.

I ran from the wedding.

I ran from my home.

I ran from my past lies.

I ran from my fears.

I ran from nothing.

And I ran from everything.

There was one thing I didn't - no, _couldn't -_ run away from.

_You._

I wish I could say you showed up on my doorstep or caught up with me, wrapped me up in your arms, whispered that I was an idiot, and that you forgave me, and most of all, that you _loved_ me. I wish I could say that you placed a kiss on my forehead, held me so tightly that my arms were bound to my sides so I couldn't hug you back; I wish you told me that you would stay with me forever.

There was no need for wishing.

You did it all before I even stepped foot out of the chapel.

_And the sixth, is when you admit that you may have messed up a little._

_Sights and sounds, paper towns; the way I see it, everyone gets a miracle. _

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**Hope you all liked it. This will probably be my last one-shot after school starts tomorrow. Yeah, it's 13 hours to depression. I'm practically counting down. But I'll continue updating my stories, no doubt about that. Thanks for reading. All reviews are very much appreciated.**

**Happy New Year! It's a new year, a new beginning. Good luck to everybody out there. :)**_  
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**- J**


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